t was not unselfish and noble--like herself,"
said Marsham, hotly. "What has that to do with it?" [Illustration:
"'DEAR LADY,' HE SAID, GENTLY, 'I THINK YOU OUGHT TO GIVE WAY!'"]

"She might release you," was Ferrier's slow reply.

Marsham flushed.

"And you think I should be such a hound as to let her!"

Sir James only just prevented himself from throwing a triumphant look at
his hostess.

"You will, of course, inform her of your mother's opposition?" said
Ferrier.

"It will be impossible to keep it from her."

"Poor child!" murmured Ferrier--"poor child!"

Then he looked at Lady Lucy.

"May I take Oliver into the inner room a little while?" he asked,
pointing to a farther drawing-room.

"By all means. I shall be here when you return."

Sir James had a few hurried words in private with Marsham, and then took
his leave. As he and Lady Lucy shook hands, he gave her a
penetrating look.

"Try and think of the girl!" he said, in a low voice; "_the girl_--in
her first youth."

"I think of my son," was the unmoved reply. "Good-bye, Sir James. I feel
that we are adversaries, and I wish it were not so."

Sir James walked away, possessed by a savage desire to do some damage to
the cathedral in pith, as he passed it on his way to the door; or to
shake his fist in the faces of Wilberforce and Lord Shaftesbury, whose
portraits adorned the staircase. The type of Catholic woman which he
most admired rose in his mind; compassionate, tender, infinitely soft
and loving--like the saints; save where "the faith" was concerned--like
the saints, again. This Protestant rigidity and self-sufficiency were
the deuce!

But he would go down to Beechcote, and he and Oliver between them would
see that child through.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Ferrier and Marsham were in anxious conclave. Ferrier
counselled delay. "Let the thing sleep a little. Don't announce the
engagement. You and Miss Mallory will, of course, understand each other.
You will correspond. But don't hurry it. So much consideration, at
least, is due to your mother's strong feeling."

Marsham assented, but despondently.

"You know my mother; time will make no difference."

"I'm not so sure--I'm not so sure," said Ferrier, cheerfully. "Did your
mother say anything about--finances?"

Marsham gave a gloomy smile.

"I shall be a pauper, of course--that was made quite plain to me."

"No, no!--that must be prevented!" said Ferrier, wi